Take Your Time, My Love
by Pottermaniac
Summary: A common grief brought them together. Now nothing can tear them apart. A fifth year story.
1. Letters

Take Your Time, My Love  
  
by Pottermaniac  
  
Disclaimer: I disown all J.K. Rowling's characters, plots, and ideas.  
  
Prologue: Under The Stars  
  
Harry Potter watched the stars twinkle in the clear sky, shining brightly with the moon on the green grass of the meadow below. A slight breeze traversed the clearing, cooling the light perspiration on Harry's forehead. He looked up again at the heavens, knowing that the celestial map that that guided countless travelers over the years could not aid him now. All he could do now was follow his heart.  
  
Chapter 1: Letters  
  
The drive back from King's Cross had been surprisingly tolerable. Hedwig's cage was pushed up against the bags of groceries that were Harry's company in the back seat of his uncle Vernon Dursleys' car.  
  
"So how're things?" said Harry tentatively. He had decided on the Hogwarts Express that he would not let himself have a miserable summer. Hagrid's words about dealing with crises as they occurred rang in his head. He would take advantage of the peaceful times.  
  
The Dursleys didn't even acknowledge him. Dudley was telling them about how he hated school, and his parents were sympathizing with him. Would help if Dudley studied once in a while, thought Harry bitterly.  
  
So Harry was left to his own thoughts, which is something he wanted to avoid. He felt partly responsible for Cedric Diggory's death, though he knew that his friends would tell him that it was only the fault of You-Know- Who. Yes, Lord Voldemort had done the deed alone--and had nearly killed Harry, too. Fate always seemed to smile down on Harry, though often not on his friends and family.  
  
He had also seen Cho Chang cry, and it hurt to think of it. Perhaps she and Cedric had been in love; he wasn't sure. Cedric was the nicest guy, it wasn't fair at all. Who to talk about this with? He desperately wanted a letter from Ron or Hermione to cheer him up.  
  
*** The car pulled into the driveway, and Harry got out last. A small brown bird fluttered high overhead, and it was clutching . . . a small envelope! And, surprisingly, it was neither Ron nor Hermione's owl.  
  
"Get those groceries and park the car in the garage when you're done," growled Uncle Vernon.  
  
"Yes, Uncle," said Harry distractedly, trying to avoid suspicion. They hadn't seen the owl.  
  
The Dursleys rushed in the house, leaving several full bags of groceries just for Harry. But he didn't mind. As soon as the door closed the owl dumped the letter in Harry's outstretched hand. He pocketed it and brought it in with the groceries, then tried his best to stuff three boxes of ice cream in a nearly stuffed freezer.  
  
When he got to his room, he took out the envelope. On the front, in elegant but unfamiliar handwriting:  
  
Harry Potter  
  
Number Four, Privet Drive  
  
He opened it crudely, and then read the letter inside.  
  
Harry,  
  
This is Cho Chang. Hopefully your mean relatives haven't got to this first. If they have, well then they are very rude. But if you are indeed reading this, then kindly thank my owl, Lynn, the next time you see her. She's really helpful when you can't find someone on a Hogwarts Expres train rides.  
  
Cedric's funeral is tomorrow. I know you can't be there, though I'm sure you would like to. While on the Express, I thought of Professor Dumbledore's words, "Remember Cedric," and then came to a comforting realization: Though the dead have parted from us, we can at least keep their memories alive. Please remember Cedric, Harry.  
  
I wonder about Muggles very much. Do you think Muggles and wizards could ever coexist? I say yes.  
  
Try to enjoy your summer, despite any efforts from your relatives to bring about the opposite. Take care, and I'll see you in the fall!  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Cho  
  
Her address was listed under her name, revealing that her home was in London.  
  
Take advantage of the time when you're not in danger, Harry repeated to himself. There were no chores to do yet, fortunately. He took out a new quill.  
  
Cho, Cedric was a great friend to me in the short time that knew him. I'd definitely go to the funeral if I could.  
  
Harry paused. He had to work on being more honest; he had learned that over the last few years. But how could she understand? Perhaps only in a bright future where they were married and settled down, where all wizards, and maybe even every rational being, coexisted peacefully. In that kind of a world, they could leave the kids with a sitter and take a stroll in a moonlit park. Only in a time and place like that, where he would be sure that she would forgive him no matter what, could he imagine telling her.  
  
I don't remember. I remember touching the Cup and being whisked away. I remember Cedric standing up to Voldemort. And then I remember waking up.  
  
Would that work? No way that could satisfy her. But he wasn't about to make up a story; it would turn out much worse. Again, he started thinking about Cedric, the gravestones, Wormtail's hand. He had never been so afraid as on that night.  
  
And have a wonderful summer. Feel free to ask about whatever you wish.  
  
Harry  
  
He shook his head, rolled up the parchment, tied the letter to Hedwig's leg. The snowy owl fluttered off into the night.  
  
***  
  
Cho responded the next day. She didn't even mention the Cedric story, but rather asked about the Dursleys' activities. Harry made sure to mention his relatives' loud snoring. Over the next several letters, Cho asked more questions. Curiosity killed the cat, Harry wrote in one reply letter. Cho's response: is that a Muggle saying? They discussed Quidditch, their professors, and Hogwarts, but never Cedric.  
  
Ron and Hermione each wrote to Harry weekly. Almost every private word to Harry from Ron or Hermione--whether spoken or written-was a complaint about the other friend: Hermione and her parents' visit to Viktor's was "stupid", Ron was "jealousy incarnate." Hermione's new shorter hairstyle "made Millicent Bullistrode's hair look wonderful", and Ron was "insufferable." Harry thought it funny that for wizards, owls were the lovebirds.  
  
***  
  
Harry stared out the window at a clear night sky from Ron's room in the Burrow. He and Hermione had been visitors for a few weeks. Some excellent Quaffle throwing had taken place during that time among Harry, Ron, Fred and George. Yet Harry had felt a little bit uncomfortable on the broomstick. It was as if he couldn't concentrate as well, as if he couldn't let himself be in too joyful a mood.  
  
Ron was staring at a book, his desk lit by a lamp. "Harry, I don't want to go back to school tomorrow," he said.  
  
"Why not, Ron?" said Harry. "The books are waiting for you."  
  
"That's not what I mean," insisted Ron. "What happens there. It's like . . . like the feeling I get before I see the dentist-only much worse."  
  
Harry was not suitably frightened. He laughed hard.  
  
"Oh shut up," said Ron, and he fiercely went back to staring at his book.  
  
Harry stared out the window again, but this time he saw something, the familiar brown speck in the sky growing ever larger. He opened the letter, anticipating another entertaining letter from his crush. Perhaps she knew something about Quidditch history? It didn't matter, as long as he got to hear from her. He read aloud:  
  
Harry,  
  
I know you. I'm sure you did nothing wrong the night Cedric died. Whatever happened, I forgive you. But please tell me someday what really happened.  
  
Cho  
  
Harry's jaw dropped. He was not entertained.  
  
"Bugger," said Ron sympathetically.  
  
"I'm not telling her now. It took me till yesterday till I could tell you and Hermione."  
  
"Good," said Ron, going back to his book.  
  
Harry, relieved, scrawled down these words:  
  
Cho,  
  
I'll tell you tomorrow on the Hogwarts Express. I'll look for you.  
  
Harry  
  
Hedwig flew out the window, the letter tied to her leg. As Hedwig flew out of hearing range, suddenly, Harry's satisfied smile became a look of panic.  
  
"What did I just do?" he said to himself.  
  
"What? What?" said Ron, turning around.  
  
But it was too late. Hedwig was now just a shrinking speck in the sky.  
  
*** 


	2. The Train

Take Your Time, My Love Chapter 02 Disclaimer: I disown all J.K. Rowling's characters, plots, and ideas. 

Chapter 2: The Train

Harry put his luggage in the same compartment as Ron and Hermione. They were on board the Hogwarts express, after two weeks at the Burrow with the Weasleys and Hermione and a quick shopping excursion at Diagon Alley. 

Harry told Ron and Hermione about his writing exchange with Cho. They felt happy for him, knowing already about his crush on the girl, but they also cautioned him not rush her at this delicate time. 

"I'm going to go look for her," said Harry. "I'll be back soon. 

"Okay," said Hermione, not looking up from her book. 

"Hey Harry," said Ron. 

Harry stopped. "Yeah?" 

"It looks like you've put on some muscle." 

"Er . . . yeah. Push-ups in my room. It should help my Quidditch game." 

"Of course." Ron winked knowingly. 

I'll leave you two alone, Harry wanted to say as he left the compartment. 

*** 

He found her in another compartment, walking in his direction. 

"Hi," he said awkwardly. 

"Hi, Harry," she said, a smile forming on her face. 

Harry stared. She had become even more attractive than he remembered. Her hair was long and straight, running down her neck towards her shoulders. She had grown along with him in height. 

"Cho!" exclaimed a female who had just entered the compartment. 

"Yes, Amanda?" said Cho. 

"I just finished the second chapter of your novel," said Amanda. She grinned. "It's so amazing." 

"Oh, do you think so?" said Cho. 

"It's just so moving," said Amanda. 

"Well, thank you," said Cho, turning towards Amanda. 

Amanda looked at Harry. 

"Amanda Smith, this is Harry Potter," said Cho. "Harry, this is Amanda." 

Harry and Amanda shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. 

"Well," said Amanda. "It's nice to meet you." 

"Nice to meet you," said Harry. 

They said quick good-byes, and Amanda left, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. 

"So you write stories?" said Harry when Amanda had left. 

"Yes," she said in a small voice. "They're not very good, though." 

"Amanda thinks they are." 

"Oh, that one just started out well." 

"I'd be interested in reading something of yours, if you don't mind." 

"Well, there's just the one novel . . . I think it needs some work first." 

"How come Amanda can look at it?" 

"Well . . . " She looked a bit embarrassed. "She's a friend of mine--a neighbor with whom I run back home. You're a stranger." 

Harry grinned. "So can I see it." 

"Yes, but I'm warning you." 

"What do you run for?" 

"For Quidditch, for the fun of it, for tennis." 

"What's that?" 

She looked at him with a puzzled expression again. "I'll explain it to you sometime. Anyway, I teach kids how to play." 

"Can I ask how you get injured in Quidditch?" 

"Yeah. The first time was at a practice. There were some boys on my team, goofing off, as boys do"--she grinned--"and a stray Bludger fractured my right index finger." 

"That doesn't sound so bad." 

"Oh, go jump out the window." 

Harry grinned back. 

"The second time," said Cho, "was also at a practice. We were running, and I pulled a hamstring." 

"Ouch. Don't try so hard," said Harry. 

"Don't what?" she said incredulously. "Oh, right. You said in a letter that you don't study until right before exams." 

Harry grinned back. "How much do you like writing?" 

"Well, I . . . would like to write for a living," she said sheepishly. 

"That's great," said Harry. "At least you know what you want to do." 

"You don't?" 

"No." 

"Hmm." She crossed her arms, her face bearing a pensive expression until her eyes lit up. "You could play professional Quidditch." 

"Maybe." 

Some students traversed the compartment, saying hi to Cho. She smiled and waved at them. 

Harry held his breath, and continued after the visitors had moved out of the compartment. "Or . . . er . . . I could do something that requires more brains," he said, not wanting to be categorized as just a jock. 

"Then I guess Hogwarts could prepare you for that?" she said. 

Had she steered him into this little confession? If so, then it was clever. Well, he _had _mentioned his "irregular" study habits. 

"Right," he said. "Maybe I should take school more seriously." 

Cho looked at him quizzically, and then started to giggle. "You're such a push-over, Harry." 

She punched him lightly on the right shoulder. 

"Ow," said Harry, rubbing the shoulder with mock concern. 

Cho giggled. "I'd . . . better get back." 

"Me too," said Harry reluctantly. 

They said their good-byes and parted, each walking back to their original compartments. 

*** 

"What took you so long?" Ron asked Harry as their boat took them across the moat. 

Harry shrugged and answered casually. "I lost track of time." 

"Oh, I see," said Ron knowingly. 

Hermione was on Ron's side of the boat, her back facing the castle and her eyes lost in a book. 

Harry noticed the boat that contained Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle. With Draco on one side, and his friends on the other, the boat looked oddly unbalanced. 

"He looks lost in thought," said Ron. "Draco, I mean. Crossed arms and all." 

Harry nodded. 

"Maybe he's trying to do simple arithmetic," said Ron. 

"Do leave it alone, Ron," said Hermione with irritation, looking up from her book. "We already hexed them last time, so we had our revenge." 

"Feel sorry for them all you want," said Ron. 

Harry tuned out the ensuing argument between his friends, and looked for Cho out on the lake until he spotted her boat. One of its passengers was Amanda, and the other two looked vaguely familiar. Cho looked to be telling a story, because the others were paying her rapt attention. She finished, and then they were all laughing. Cho spotted Harry and their eyes met, neither one averting his or her eyes. She winked at him, and he winked back. 

Hagrid was spotted onshore as they disembarked onto dry land, the smell of fresh cut grass detectable in the air. He looked tired and drained, and, anyway, he was too busy guiding First Years to chat with Harry and his friends. 

*** 

The Sorting and Opening Banquet seemed to end as soon as they had started. Harry and the others found themselves both caught up in the act of catching up with others' summer stories and disinterested in the official business going on. The real Mad-Eye Moody was the new Dark Arts teacher, and Harry knew that might take some adjusting to. 

Harry ended up staring at Cho way too much, watching her chat animatedly with almost an entire table, eating with a simple elegance and conversing with remarkable energy. Harry made sure to chew with his mouth closed, in case she looked at him. 

*** 


	3. The Novel

Take Your Time, My Love Chapter 03 Disclaimer: I disown all J.K. Rowling's characters, plots, and ideas. 

Chapter 3: The Novel

"Did you bring it?" said Harry. 

They were in the library., It was a Tuesday afternoon, and they had arranged this meeting the day before. 

"Oh, right," said Cho. She fished around in her bag and pulled out a few folders stuffed with paper. "Here," she said, handing it to him as one big stack. 

Harry leafed through it eagerly. "So each folder is one part, and it's all . . . hand-written. How long did it take you?" 

"Well . . . I wrote it over the summer. But"--she added hastily--"you can tell that it's rushed." 

Harry didn't look up. He was looking at the first page, Cho's neat and economical handwriting giving the page an aesthetic value. "It doesn't look rushed." 

"You're kidding, right?" 

"No, it looks . . . neat," said Harry. 

Cho gave him a dubious look, as if she _had _written it with no real regard for legibility. 

Harry looked up again, but Cho had got out of her seat across from him to peruse a nearby bookshelf. He watched her reclaim her place in front of him, her eyebrows raised, a smile starting to form on her face. 

She had found a biography of Rowena Ravenclaw, the founder of her house. Harry's curiosity wasn't really piqued, but hers evidently was; she started flipping through the pages and then began to read. 

Harry looked up at her face. Her eyes were downcast, her long eyelashes pointing at the wooden table before them. She turned the page. Suddenly, Harry noticed how fast she was reading. The pages were small, he allowed, but he soon timed her to be spending thirty seconds on every two pages, or fifteen seconds a page! 

Harry went back to the unpublished novel in front of him. Words were crossed out here and there on the first page. He adjusted his glasses and read the first chapter in one sitting. Then he looked up, exhilarated and yet confused, and Cho's eyes met his. He instinctively averted his eyes to his right. 

"What do you think?" she said anxiously. 

What did he think? He thought those large, brown, almond shaped eyes of hers had the same hypnotizing quality as her writing, but she wasn't asking about her eyes. "It's . . . deep and . . . and no sixteen year old has a right to be that wise and . . . eloquent." 

She blushed. "Well . . . I'm glad you like it," she said with finality. "Let me tell you something interesting about Rowena Ravenclaw." 

Rowena had loved Godric Gryffindor when they were single. She married a man named Martin Smith, a dragon keeper, and they had had a daughter, Malena. Smith had died early in a dragon keeping accident, and, several years later, Rowena had met and married an aristocrat named Paul Brown. They both lived long and died on the same day, of natural causes. 

*** 

Harry had never read a novel before--much less read from the second chapter of a novel to the very end in one night. With dark circles under his eyes and stiff joints, he caught Cho leaving the potions dungeon. Harry knew that Potions was her last class on Wednesdays. 

"Cho," he said, "can I speak to you?" 

She stopped in surprise and looked at him. "Sure, Harry." 

"We'll see you in the common room, Cho," said a green-eyed redhead. Three other girls waved along with the redhead, and Cho smiled back at them. 

"How was Potions?" said Harry. 

"Fun." 

"Potions is never fun." 

"There's nothing we can do about Professor Snape, Harry. Also, I know you don't like him, but in most cases, there is more total good in a person than bad--often despite appearances." 

"I know that for a fact," said Harry. "But I don't know what those things are. I know that Professor Dumbledore trusts him, and that means something." 

"Yeah. So what did you want to tell me?" she said, tilting her head to the side. 

"I read your book last night." 

"Good one, Harry." 

"No, I mean it." 

She looked at him doubtfully. 

"And I loved it," said Harry. 

"Oh," she said. 

"When Kristy talks about 'true love being a perfect blend of love and reason', you're talking about abstinence." 

"Yes. Don't you feel the same way?" 

"Yes, I have the same position on the issue," said Harry truthfully. "I think you're right." 

"You may agree with the stance, but the wording . . . Maybe I can get it published someday." 

"You could publish it as it is. I haven't read much, Cho, but I know this is a great novel. You're a great writer with _perfect _handwriting, and I think you just need to believe in yourself more." Harry stopped himself before his compliments got out of control. 

To his surprise, she giggled. "I know I have that problem, but thanks for pointing it out. While we're talking about each other's faults . . . " 

"I'm working way harder this year than last year, Cho," said Harry. "And I'm learning to swallow my pride, like when I ask you or Hermione for help." 

"How about considering that there may be more good in some people than you may think?" 

"Well, that's a new one I need to work on." Harry grinned. 

"Harry, one day you may actually become mature." She laughed. 

"Oh, and I'm the heir of Gryffindor," said Harry. 

"Really?" 

"Yeah. You were mentioning Rowena Ravenclaw yesterday. I thought I should tell you." 

Her face was full of curiosity. "How do you know?" she breathed. 

"Long story. I'll tell you next time. And it's kind of a secret, so don't tell anybody." 

"Okay, but why not whisper it to me now?" 

"It's a long story," Harry repeated, a little amused at her curiosity. "Your friends are probably waiting for you before they eat dinner." 

"Can't you just--" 

"--No," he said firmly. 

"Harry," she said with obvious disappointment. 

"I'll walk you over to your common room entrance." 

"Okay," she said. "But you have to tell me someday." 

They walked back in a restless silence, Harry resisting the urge to laugh at her. 

*** 

The Ravenclaw common room entrance was a painting of Rowena Ravenclaw. Rowena had white, flowing hair and thin spectacles on her eyes. Her hands were in her lap, and she sat in an oak chair wearing a blue dress. Full bookshelves stood up in the background. The painting wasn't alive. 

"Now go away," said Cho. "I have to say the password." 

"Is it Nerd House?" joked Harry. 

Cho scowled at him with mock anger as he turned around and left. 

*** 


	4. Admiration

Take Your Time, My Love Chapter 04 Disclaimer: I disown all J.K. Rowling's characters, plots, and ideas. 

Chapter 4: Admiration

It was a Thursday. The hallway was full of people going to and from class, the light from the wall mounted candles preventing kids from bumping into each other. Ron and Hermione were just ahead of Harry as they left History of Magic, Hermione's head noticeably lower than Ron's shoulder as they walked in cadence. 

A hand reached out from the sea of people and grabbed onto Harry's right arm like a man on the verge of drowning would grab at a lifesaver. 

Harry turned to his right, and saw Cho looking at him mischievously. "Gotcha," she said. Her hair was shorter now, curving in towards her shoulders on both sides of her neck. 

"Hi," said Harry. 

"Can you tell me your story now?" 

Harry had a few hours before his next class, Herbology with the Hufflepuffs. "Yeah." 

"Come on, then." She started pulling him across the hall into an empty classroom, Harry complaining with mock pain along the way. 

She shut the door and crossed her arms. "Well?" 

"Can we sit down?" 

They did so, Harry pulling a chair to sit across the desk from her. 

Harry took a deep breath. "Maybe I should start from the beginning." 

He told the entire yarn up to the end of last year, fully aware that this act of confiding was bringing her into a private circle that had previously included only his closest friends. She listened attentively, and, at the end, looked like she might cry. As before, telling the story had left him emotionally and physically drained. 

When he was done, he added, "I don't know what's become of Sirius, and Remus, and the others. Hagrid is being really secretive. And I'm not even going to try to get any information from Snape." 

Her face had paled. "Harry, I'm so worried about you. I mean, I admire what you've done. And Cedric, too . . . I can't bear to think about anything bad happening to you. Harry . . . " 

She looked even closer to the verge of tears than before, and Harry hated to see her cry. He reached out and put his hand firmly, yet gently, on top of her trembling hand. "You're not going to lose me like you lost Cedric, Cho. I just know I'm going to get through this. I don't know how I know; I just do." 

She smiled sadly, lifted his hand off, and then pulled out a hankerchief from her pocket to wipe her tears. "You'd better," she said sternly. "You're exhausted, Harry. Do you want to take a nap?" 

Harry stifled a yawn. "It's okay. I'd . . . like to know about Cedric." 

She took a deep breath. "I met him shortly after we played each other in Quidditch last year. He had won that game, barely, but he stopped me in the hall to tell me how impressed he was with my play. My friends were there too, and we all chatted, Cedric listening quite attentively. Finally, my friends and I said good-bye, and then suddenly he blurted out that he liked me. You can imagine everyone's surprise. 

Shortly after that, to my amazement, he mustered up the courage to invite me to the ball. He joked about his previous 'outburst'; I was glad he could laugh about it. 

We went to the ball together. He danced with a charming self-consciousness. 

I learned about his family, his dreams . . . 

I supported him in the tournament, though I was absolutely amazed when I learned that you had thrown away your chances of winning the second event in order to save Gabrielle--or at least that's what you thought. And you arrived there looking like something the cat drawn in. Now that you've told me that you had just woken up . . ." 

She giggled, but then continued. "When I learned of Cedric's passing, I felt a mixture of grief and guilt. He wanted me to know that he adored me, and yet I never told him that I only wanted to be friends. You have an idea of how I felt, right?" 

Harry nodded. She was obviously referring to Ginny. 

She looked at the clock. "When I learned at the closing banquet of your involvement, I had to know what happened. So I wrote to you, the principled boy shrouded in mystery, with trembling hands and raging doubts. 

I'm so grateful that you've told me everything, Harry. I'm just awestruck by the fact that you refused to take the cup. I . . . really admire your sense of fairness--your nobility." 

Harry blushed. "Thanks," he mumbled self-consciously. _She _admired _him_? All he had done was survive. She was the one who could write a profound and highly entertaining novel in three months. 

"I'm sorry I took so long," she said, smiling self-consciously. 

"No, don't be." 

"My Mum's been wondering if she's the last descendant of Rowena Ravenclaw. She took up genealogy as a hobby, and told me the answer in a letter that I received this morning." 

"And?" 

"And I'm the heir of Ravenclaw!" she exclaimed. 

"Really?" 

"Yes. So we're both heirs. What are the odds?" There was an amused smile on her face. 

"And that we'd be friends, too," added Harry. He looked at her hands. "Look, Cho, about taking your hand . . ." 

She looked into his eyes. "It's OK. I'm glad you did it." 

Harry looked at the girl before him. This whole scene had been going somewhere, and she was implying that he do just what he had been dying to do for months. 

"Cho?" he said. "Will you go out with me?" 

Her eyes lit up. "I'd love to." 

Harry grinned. "I love the way you said that. That was rehearsed, right?" 

"It _was not_," she said with mock indignation. 

Harry looked at the clock. There was a sense of relief and peace in Harry that he had not felt in a long time. 

"You're not expecting anything more than a kiss from me, are you?" said Cho. 

"No," he said truthfully. 

"Good." 

"How were you as a child, Cho?" 

"Happy. Loved. My Mum involved me in books; she's a school-teacher. I grew up with Shakespeare, Austen, Atwood, Poe, and Dickinson. My Dad, who works for the ministry, brought religion into my life, where it still plays a big part." 

"I've seen you at the services in that small Church a quarter mile from the castle." 

"I know. I've seen you too. Anyway, my friends were mostly athletically oriented girls. They taught me some sports. I was born a pureblood, and I discovered I was a witch when I was five. Does that cover it?" 

Harry chuckled. "Yeah. Did you know that Ron and Hermione are going out? I found out last night." 

"I knew it!" she exclaimed. "Good for them." 

*** 


	5. Foretaste

Take Your Time, My Love Chapter 05 Disclaimer: I disown all J.K. Rowling's characters, plots, and ideas. 

Chapter 5: Foretaste

Over the Christmas break, the ground was covered with a few feet of snow. The trees were bare, and the days were short. Those who stayed at the school, including Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Cho, continued to wear the boots and gloves and earmuffs and scarves that kept them warm in the previous month. 

"What do you think, Harry?" said Cho. 

They were in a small shop in Hogsmeade, this being the first official Hogsmeade weekend in recent memory that took place over a winter vacation. 

Cho was holding up a small, stuffed Winged Horse--probably an Abraxan--and had a big smile on her face. 

"Do you want it?" said Harry. "I'll buy it for you." He and Ron had their arms crossed. They stood next to each other, disinterested in shopping long ago. 

"No thanks," she said demurely. "I'm getting it for Peter Brown." 

"Oh. Okay," said Harry. 

"Am I missing something?" said Ron, looking down at his best friend. "Who's Peter Brown?" 

"An eight year old neighbor of Cho's," said Harry. "She baby-sat him quite a bit over the summer. He's also one of the kids she gave tennis lessons to over the summer." 

"Yes," said Cho. "And he's so sweet that he deserves it." She hurried over to the counter. 

"What's tennis?" whispered Ron. 

Harry told Ron all that he had heard from Cho, but he had never seen it played. 

"We're going to the bookshop next, right?" asked Hermione eagerly, looking up from the trinkets she had been perusing. 

"Sure," said Ron tiredly. 

"Okay," said Cho, nearly skipping up to the others, a small white bag in her hand. 

"Let's go," said Hermione eagerly. 

*** 

Cho and Hermione tried shopping together at the bookstore, scouring each and every aisle. While Hermione's interest were mostly academic, Cho's were mostly literary. However, they seemed to find the occasional book which interested them both. 

Ron and Harry strolled nonchalantly through the store. 

"Don't tell me you don't see it," said Ron. "This is a foretaste of the future. Sometime after graduation, you and I will marry our girlfriends. And someday we'll be shopping together in Hogsmeade, and it'll be just like this." 

"Sounds perfect to me," said Harry. 

"Yeah," said Ron. "It does." 

Something caught Harry's eye: a copy of War and Peace. He picked it up. "Do you know how long it took Cho to read this?" said Harry. 

"How long?" said Ron. 

"Three and a half hours. Once I asked her to name one of her favorite books. She said this one. Then I asked her how long it was, and how long it took her to read it. She said about 750 pages, but she was reluctant to say how long it took. I badgered her, though, until she told me." They started making their way to the clerk, Harry carrying the book with him. 

"That's great," said Ron. He grinned. "Do you think your girlfriend's smarter than mine?" 

Harry grinned. "Nah. Hermione's so smart, it's scary." 

Ron chuckled. "yeah, but Cho's wise way beyond her years. 

"To each his own," said the guy at the cash register. 

*** 


	6. Snapshot

Take Your Time, My Love Chapter 06 Disclaimer: I disown all J.K. Rowling's characters, plots, and ideas. 

Chapter 6: Snapshot

"What do we do now?" said Ron, as they stood in the street outside the bookstore. 

"How about we take a picture?" said Cho excitedly. 

"Yeah, let's do it!" Hermione squealed. 

"I've got a great idea," said Harry. "We can get the street in the background if you face this way." 

They could get the cobblestone streets and little shops in the background. It would be kind of quaint. 

Harry took Cho's camera from her outstretched hand and tried to line it up, his friends huddled in the center of the quiet street. 

He tried one angle, then made the camera vertical, and then backed up. He wanted the perfect shot. 

Something made him look up. 

Cho was tapping her foot, with her arms crossed in front of her and an amused smile playing on her face. "Take your time, my love." 

Harry melted at the sight and at her words, but pulled himself together and took a great shot. Then they all rotated and took the picture. 

*** 

School resumed, to the displeasure of virtually all except Hermione. Classes dragged on, and Harry found that he and Cho could cheer each other up despite the weather outside. 

They were in the library, and Cho was singing quietly to herself. 

"What are you singing?" said Harry. 

"Mozart," she said. "It's from his Sonata in C, K.545." 

"It's very you." 

"Isn't it, though?" 

*** 


	7. A Daring Maneuver

Take Your Time, My Love Chapter 07 Disclaimer: I disown all J.K. Rowling's characters, plots, and ideas.

Chapter 7: A Daring Maneuver

The Gryffindor-Ravenclaw Quidditch match had become more and more anticipated as students learned of the relationship between the seekers. The match was about to start, and the players made their way onto the freshly cut grass of the pitch. The goals loomed high in the air. 

"Don't go easy on her because she's your girlfriend," said Ron, the new keeper this season. 

"I won't," said Harry." 

Cho winked at Harry, and he winked back. 

The whistle blew, and the players shot up into the sky. The seekers hovered in the air, their eyes scanning the field. Suddenly, the snitch appeared, right in the middle of the field, amongst the players. The seekers darted for it, knifing through the heated action. The players didn't slow a bit to accommodate Harry and Cho. The seekers dodged rogue Bludgers and oblivious players and whooshing Quaffles. 

The snitch flew through a small opening between the two Ravenclaw chasers near the Gryffindor goal post, and Harry went after it. He pressed his body close to the broom to make himself as small as possible, and then he wove through a rapidly shrinking space between a Gryffindor beater and chaser. He heard a whooshing sound overhead, and as he emerged from the space, barely avoiding contact, he saw the Snitch hovering a few feet in front of him. Then he spotted Cho above the Snitch. She had been the one who had whooshed over his head, arcing above the Gryffindor players to get closer to the Snitch. She dived for it, but Harry got there first, beating her to it by a few seconds. He barely got out of the way as Cho, flew past him, trying to stop her descent abruptly. Harry had been paying attention; the score had been tied, so his capture of the Snitch had solidified the win. 

He turned around and grinned at her, and she smiled back weakly. 

"You could have hurt yourself, Harry," she said. She flew towards him. "Trying to squeeze between two oblivious players." 

"Cho, they saw me." And they had. "Really, I'm not one to take stupid risks," he assured her. He was overcome with a sudden tenderness. 

She finally smiled. "All right." 

"You don't seem so upset about losing," said Harry. 

"When I fly, I feel like I'm one with the wind, Harry. How can anyone feel sad after that?" 

The other players crowded around, and the Gryffindors celebrated. 

*** 


	8. The Order

Take Your Time, My Love Chapter 08 Disclaimer: I disown all J.K. Rowling's characters, plots, and ideas.

Chapter 8: The Order

Harry woke up from the first dream in years in which his scar had burned. He put his hand to his scar, feeling the beads of perspiration on his forehead. There had been a tall figure, robed, likely Lord Voldemort, and an assistant was present, likely Wormtail. He had heard the malicious, high-pitched laugh from the Dark Lord, and then he had noticed the dusty stone walls that surrounded the chamber. Outside the window, he could just make out the view; they were hundreds of feet in the air, Harry estimated, and there were dry, rocky crags and the tiny specks of thick forests that he could just make out in the distance. They were in a remote castle, he guessed, and there was a forest of some kind nearby. 

He had a habit of not relaying these nightmares, despite their consistently prophetic nature, but today he would make an exception. Cho was different; she was his girlfriend, and she feared for him. She would demand to know every detail, even if he had mentioned it in passing. 

It was the first day of a Hogsmeade weekend, and it was early March. The best time to talk to Cho would be at breakfast. 

He approached her in the Great Hall. "Hey Cho," he said. 

"Hi Harry," she said cheerily. "Are you okay?" 

"Can we go to the library?" 

"Sure," she said. 

He told her everything there in whispers, giving her the few details he had. As expected, she told him to go to Professor Dumbledore. 

"But I don't want to go on another adventure," said Harry. "I want to stay here and get to know you and--" 

"--There will be time for that. Harry, I'm not going to argue anymore, because I know how your sense of duty works. I know you'll see him." 

Of course, she was right. 

*** 

"Harry, how are you?" said Professor Dumbledore. 

Harry awkwardly moved into the Headmaster's office. "Fine, Professor." 

"Good. How can I help you?" 

He told the Headmaster about the dream. 

Professor Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Harry, I was planning to talk to you in the near future anyway." 

He took a deep breath. "I have serious news for you, Harry. The ministry continues to ignore the signs, but we have worked against Voldemort for nearly a year now. Rubeus and Madame Maxime convinced a large number of giants and half-giants to side with the humans against Voldemort. Sirius, Remus, and their old friends investigated certain leads related to Dark wizard activity. 

But most importantly, Severus Snape, since being "welcomed back", so to speak, by the Death Eaters, has been spying for us, and he has determined the location of a major stronghold for the Dark Wizards--a castle, deep in South America. 

I've of late been thinking over you Finite Incantatem feat at the end of last year. Do you remember why it worked?" 

"Yes, sir," said Harry. "It's because the core of my wand is the same as Voldemort's." 

"Yes. And while you two are the only ones to have wand cores from this very phoenix, others with wand cores from different phoenixes should have almost the same efficiency as yours should they battle Voldemort. So I'm suggesting that you go with our allies among these said wandbearers as they venture to this castle. I'm afraid there's no Ministry support on this one--especially considering that they don't officially recognize Voldemort's return." 

Dumbledore went on. "Now, here's why it's urgent. Your friend, Remus Lupin, was captured as a werewolf two months ago, and is now believed to be a prisoner at the complex. Fortunately, we don't think they know his significance. That is, unless Wormtail has seen him. In any case, he is as loyal to the Cause as any, and with even the slight chance that he's alive . . . the Order of the Phoenix must try to rescue him." 

Harry didn't like the idea much. As he had told Cho before, he wanted to spend time with her. He most certainly didn't want to risk his life again. However, they might need his wand specifically in order to save Remus, one of Harry's closest friends. There might be another solution. "Can't somebody more experienced borrow my wand for this mission?" 

"I'm afraid not, Harry," said the Headmaster. "The wand chooses the owner, and not the other way around. Its power would be dramatically weakened." 

And so Harry learned of the order. Or rather, he heard the pitch. With a heavy heart, and with more to lose now than before, he said that he would have a decision by the morning; he had to talk to his friends first. 

"Of course," said Dumbledore." I'm sure you'll make the right choice. 

*** 


	9. True Love

Take Your Time, My Love Chapter 09 Disclaimer: I disown all J.K. Rowling's characters, plots, and ideas. 

Chapter 9: True Love

"Harry, where are you talking me?" Cho said. 

It was the night of that same Saturday. Dumbledore's words ran through Harry's mind over and over. 

The others, Ron and Hermione and Amanda included, had all declared themselves busy for the night, so Harry and Cho went into Hogsmeade by themselves. Cho was following him, a puzzled expression on her face. 

Finally, Harry spotted his allies. 

Cho's birthday in February had been, not by any of Cho's doing, a large affair. She had received more presents than she knew what to do with, she had later confided to Harry.   
Harry had, without her knowledge, planned another surprise for her in addition to his present. 

Cho gasped as she saw them. "Mum! Dad!" She nearly ran over to them and then hugged them. She also greeted the other surprise guests: Ron, Hermione, Amanda, Ginny, and Peter Brown. Harry had had to do a lot of planning for this. 

Cho looked back at Harry, smiling. For a while, she was speechless. "Harry . . . " 

Harry smiled back. "Your welcome." 

"Come on," she said. Let me introduce you to them formally." 

After a good amount of conversation, Harry asked to take Cho away for a moment. 

*** 

The stars twinkled in the clear sky. In the clearing where they now stood; part of the grass was still muddy or wet from previous rain. Those relatively fixed points of light overhead, which had guided so many travelers throughout the years, would not be able to help Harry choose the right path now. He had to follow his heart. 

"What is it, Harry?" said Cho with concern. "You look troubled." 

"Cho, I love you." 

She smiled, her face turning crimson. "I love you, too, Harry." 

He took her hands in his. They were a little bit cold. There was a rustling sound in the nearby bushes, which Harry ignored. 

He told her about the Order, and its daring mission. "I feel that it's my duty to go." 

"I think you're right," she said. 

"But Cho, I might die over there. I can't bear to think of what that would do to you." 

"Harry, I know you're not invincible, but it seems to me that without you and your wand, their mission is doomed to failure. There's a life at stake--at _least _one." She was frowning. 

"Cho," said Harry with a heavy heart, "There's a way to make it easier for you--the waiting, and, possibly, my death. If we're not attached, if you forget about me and move on, then maybe, it won't hurt so much. It's not that I want to break up with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you to be my wife and the mother of my children. I want to make you the happiest woman in the world. But . . . I might not be there. Maybe it would be best if we break up." 

"No, Harry," she said firmly. She had been shaking her head throughout his whole argument. "Remember what I said about true love in the novel? It's the perfect blend of love and reason. It's what I have for you--even if you can be the most _un_-reasonable, confused . . . considerate and noble and gentle . . ." Her hands held on to his more tightly. She took a step towards him, and then another. 

A wave of rich, warm happiness flowed through Harry, washing away all his fears and worries. There was nothing better than to be loved by her. He smiled, and let go of her hands. She stepped forward again. He raised her chin up to his, her large, brown eyes full of the joy of life. Soon, their faces were within inches of each other, her black hair brushing his shoulder and smelling of roses. Her head was tilted shyly, her mouth forming a smile. They each closed their eyes and wrapped their arms around the other's neck, and then he kissed her. In that brief moment, he tried to convey even a fraction of his affection for her, a picture of her in his mind. He kissed her softly, memorizing the smooth texture of her lips and the gentle pressure of her fingers on his neck. As they broke the kiss, Harry felt a deep sense of peace and contentment filling up his heart. 

She took a small gasp of air. 'That was the most incredible experience of my life," she said. 

"Me, too," said Harry. 

Her smile was suddenly replaced by a shocked expression. She fell back suddenly, but Harry caught her, cradling her upper back in his arms. 

"Harry, what's . . . happening to me?" she said in a trembling voice. 

There was a rustle in the bushes again, and then Ron, Hermione, and the others emerged, alarmed looks on their faces. 

"I don't know, sweetheart," said Harry. He had never been so afraid in his life. His scar suddenly throbbed. He ignored the others, who had certainly been spying on them, and felt enraged at his own powerlessness. 

"My heart," she managed. "It hurts, and I feel so weak." 

"Cho!" Darling," it was Mrs. Chang who rushed the fastest to their side. 

"Mum?" she said, turning her head to notice the others. She actually smiled. _Those snoops_, she was probably thinking to herself. 

"Cho, everything's going to be fine," said Cho's mother, her frightened expression betraying her emotions. 

"I'll get Pomfrey," said Ginny urgently. "And Dumbledore!" She started sprinting to the castle. 

Harry prayed that those two would be able to help. 

The scar began to throb again, though Harry couldn't see why. He held on to Cho's hand, and noticed that her pulse seemed to be gradually slowing. 

"What can we do?" said Hermione, who was clutching Ron's arm. 

"I don't know, Hermione," said Cho. 

"Your pulse is slowing, Cho," said Harry, his voice full of fear. 

"Try to speed it up, then," said Ron. "Harry, kiss her again." They all looked at him. "I'm serious!" he said. 

Suddenly, a white form materialized before them. It was an old lady, with thin spectacles and white, flowing hair. She reminded Harry of the painting . . . of Rowena Ravenclaw!" 

The form spoke. "You cannot fight the curse. I am Rowena Ravenclaw, the one who cast the spell, and I could not undo it." Her voice was cold. 

"How can we save her?" demanded Mr. Chang. 

"You cannot," said Rowena's ghost-like form. "I am truly sorry. .For a short time, I can stop the curse's effect." She waved her hand, sparks of light falling out. "There. Now let me tell you a story. 

I loved Godric Gryffindor with an un-reciprocated love. We were single then. I eventually married a kind man named Martin Smith. We had a daughter named Malena--my heir. Martin died in the line of duty as a dragon keeper. Years later, I met another man, Paul Brown. He mystified me. Shortly after our marriage, he learned of my surviving bitterness towards Gryffindor. Malena was starting to date Godric's son, John. 

Why should any other Ravenclaw have the right to a Gryffindor's love, if you can't? he had said. I _was _bitter. He wrote down an incantation. Only you can cast a familial curse, he said. I was not quite myself; I suspect he put something in my drink. I said it, thinking of the two dynasties while doing so, as he had instructed. At his death, I learned from his last words that he was a Dark wizard of the worst kind. My daughter had been right in fighting and loathing him and warning me of him; I was the one who was blind. I tried to take back the curse, but could not. I had not the opportunity to tell anyone; my daughter had ran from me long ago, and Paul had already poisoned me with a poison that would make my death look natural. I tried to reverse the spell until the moment of my death. 

Fortunately, Malena stopped seeing John--despite not knowing about the curse. Otherwise, she would have died young, and the Ravenclaw line would have ended." 

Harry hated this woman for what she had done, and would have said as much. He thought of Cho's words, about Tolstoyan compassion and looking for the good in people without ignoring the bad. He looked around, and saw Ginny with Madame Pomfrey, Professor Dumbledore, and, to his surprise, Professor Snape, staring at Rowena's ghost with disbelief. 

"I cannot hold the curse any longer," said the ghost. "I have to return. Again, I am sorry." She was fading away. 

"I forgive you," said Cho. "Wait! So there _is _a heaven?" 

Rowena's form had almost completely disappeared, but they could hear her answer. "Yes," she said. 

Harry heard Ginny and her group make their way towards him and Cho, but his eyes never left her face. Her pulse had begun to slow again, and for the first time in his memory, he felt tears run down his cheeks. He heard the sound of many footsteps heading for the clearing, perhaps the footsteps of students. He wiped another tear from Cho's face, and then he saw Mrs. Chang put her hand on her daughter's cheek. The sound of the footsteps stopped, and it was replaced by concerned whispers. 

"Mum," said Cho, and there was complete silence. "Dad, thank you for everything." Her grip was weakening. She looked up at Harry. "Harry, be safe on the mission, then, someday, find love again. No one deserves a family more than you, Harry. Heaven exists. I'll wait for you there." 

"I love you, Cho," Harry said through tears. She smiled, and then closed her eyes and breathed her last. 

Harry kissed her on the forehead, and he did not let go of her hand for a long time. 

*** 


	10. London

Take Your Time, My Love Chapter 10 Disclaimer: I disown all J.K. Rowling's characters, plots, and ideas.

Chapter 10: London

Harry suffered at the funeral. He had been allowed to ride back with Cho's parents and Peter Brown on the Hogwarts Express. They talked sadly of Cho, and Cho's parents told Harry about all the wonderful things their daughter had said about him. Harry couldn't help but imagine them as his in-laws; they were wonderful people who he planned to write to often. 

The service was solemn, and very well attended. Harry felt totally alone and deserted. He felt a sadness that overwhelmed all his thoughts. She visited his every dream. Everything he saw triggered a painful memory of her. Thinking about him was a torture to his mind. 

How could God take away that ecstasy from him in the blink of an eye? The greatest moment of his life, the kiss and the commitment, had lasted for an instant, and then the worst thing possible happened. This innocent, beautiful, loving person had been wrested from him. He had saved so many, but when the time came, he could not save the person he loved the most. 

Harry stayed at her house. He even saw her room. All of it made his heart ache terribly. He exchanged stories with her parents during his stay, and suddenly it was time for him to return to school. They had grown so close so quickly, and their mutual grief had so much to do with it. 

*** 


	11. The Castle

Take Your Time, My Love Chapter 11 Disclaimer: I disown all J.K. Rowling's characters, plots, and ideas. 

Chapter 11: The Castle

The mission lasted through to nearly the end of the year. Harry made himself remember Cho, despite the pain, instead of letting himself get too caught up in the mission. He didn't want to lose sight of its meaning. 

When dementors swarmed them, Harry thought of his first, and last, kiss with Cho in Hogsmeade. His patronus was a beautiful Antarctic dove, which Cho's parents had told him was the animal that provided the feather at the core of Cho's wand. 

Harry barraged his companions with questions as a way to distract himself from the memories of his love. Mad-Eye Moody seemed the most eager to teach. Harry dedicated himself to learning the advanced spells they taught him, practicing over and over at night when he wasn't sleeping or on guard duty. They'd eat bland rations and sleep at irregular intervals, because the Dark wizards attacked with guerilla tactics every few days or so. Harry sought the counsel of the chaplain, and the old man helped him through his grief. 

When they arrived near the castle, a towering structure of cold, gray brick guarded by giant sentries, Harry volunteered to go with the reconnaissance party. They flew high into the air, scanning the battlements and dodging arrows shot from unmanned bows. A back, unguarded entrance was reported to the others, and then the Order entered through it. 

A giant skirmish ensued, with three dozen Death Eaters against the fifteen man Order. Harry soared high into the top of the chamber, casting fire and water attacking spells on unsuspecting Death Eaters while navigating through a storm made up of their attacks. 

Several Death Eaters chased him up to the heights of the chamber, and he fought them all himself. He executed barrel rolls and dramatic dives, firing indiscriminately at their perfect formations behind him. 

All the while he remembered not to be tempted by death and the prospect of returning to Cho early; she had told him to be safe, and he had a job to do. 

The opposing flyers were defeated, one by one. Mundungus Fletcher, a member of the order, found Remus' cell, and they rescued their malnourished ally. 

Suddenly, a hundred Death Eaters arrived; they were probably reinforcements. The Order retreated from the castle. Just outside the structure, Harry's broom was destroyed by a rogue spell. Then, on the bridge over the chasm before them, the part of the bridge below Harry suddenly broke, and he had to hang on to the part of the bridge left in front of him in order to stay alive. Professor Snape saved Harry's life by pulling him to safety, and a new respect formed between them. Cho's words about the good in people kept ringing in Harry's head. 

In the end, the Order somehow found a way to get back to Hogwarts without casualties--and with Remus. The rescued man was snuck into the castle and revived by Madame Pomfrey. As soon as he was healthy, Remus had to leave and resume the fight. He thanked Harry profusely before they parted. 

*** 


	12. Heaven

Take Your Time, My Love Chapter 12 Disclaimer: I disown all J.K. Rowling's characters, plots, and ideas. 

Chapter 12: Heaven

The next day, Harry dropped off Cho's novel at Pegasus Publishing in Hogsmeade. At the end of the year, Harry rode back on the Express with his friends. They talked fondly of Cho. Harry could deal with his grief now, because of one night and the memory that it recalled. 

It was the night after they had returned from the mission. Harry gave up on trying to sleep, and sat up. There were streaks on his face from dried tears, and he was the only one awake. He peered out a window and looked at the stars and the lawn below. He remembered looking at the stars overhead before both the best and worst moments of his life. Hogsmeade had been so beautiful. 

Suddenly, Harry remembered the pictures he had taken three. He fished around in the drawer in his desk, and found his copies of those four pictures taken on that cobblestone street. He looked at Cho's smiling face and remembered her: her enchanting eyes, her beautiful smile, her wondrous wisdom, and her tender heart. _At least you can keep their memories alive_, she had said. 

Harry began to cry again. They had had so many dreams and hopes as a couple that were unfulfilled. He would have devoted himself to her. He would have made her so happy. She had convinced him to believe in Providence, but how could God take her away at such a young age? She had been full of faith and love and good intentions, and she was young. Where was the fairness in that? 

He looked again at the picture, and suddenly he remembered the scene. He had been so determined to take the perfect picture, taking way too much time preparing it. 

Then he had looked up, and Cho had melted his heart. The memory of her appearance and her words led to a thought in his mind, and for the first time since her passing, he smiled genuinely and whole-heartedly. 

Cho was surely in heaven, and he imagined her there. She was tapping her foot, her arms crossed and a playful smile on her face, expressing mock impatience. And she was looking down at him right now, and she was saying, _Take your time, my love._

*** 

There is nothing more magical than love. "God is Love," said St. John.; thus, Love is God. Love people, love God, and leave the rest up to Providence. Do these things, and you will be practicing the greatest magic of all. 

--Cho Chang,   
From her novel, _London Bridge_

*** 

A/N: I've based this story on two statements that I've heard are attributed to J.K. Rowling. First, everyone in Book 4 likes the wrong person. Since the relationship is cursed, one could say that Cho is indeed "the wrong person" for Harry. 

The second statement is that Harry dates someone for a short time in Book 5. 

I'm not sure if these rumors are true, but this story accounts for them, in a way. 

I did two things differently this time. First, I wrote almost all of it out by hand at first. Also, I listed out all the important events and determined the final chronology at the start. These strategies seemed to benefit me, and I'd heartily recommend them. In addition, a healthy obsession with the story and a character or two--in my case, Cho--really helped me keep my focus. 

Death is a strange thing in fiction-writing. It's surprisingly easy to let fictional characters die, even if we love them. There's a detachment there. I'm sure Cho turns out to have a much different personality and fate in the canon, but this is largely why we write fan fiction these days: to exercise control over what will soon be out of our hands. 

Influences: Jose Saramago's All the Names (on my ideas about the living and the dead), Margaret Atwood's The Blind Assassin (on structure and style), Gladiator (on the last words), SugarQuill's After the End, Blaise's The Farther Shore, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (on Cho's passing away scene), and the urge to inject my Catholic faith into the virtually non-religious Harry Potter story. 

Of course, this could go in either of two ways: either Harry finds love again or he does not. In the latter case, he and Cho could--and this is kind of absurd--get married in heaven. In any case, I'm not following this story up. 

--Pottermaniac   
August 12, 2001 


End file.
